


Time To Say Goodbye

by mccafejeffery



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Death Threats, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Death, Josh Is Kinda An Ass, Josh's Job Kinda Sucks, Kinda A Lot Of Gore, Patrick's Just Along For The Ride, Pete Is Angry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 12:44:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mccafejeffery/pseuds/mccafejeffery
Summary: Prince Tyler meets an unforgiving fate.





	Time To Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I worked extremely hard on this. I did tons of research on this and I hope I didn't get any of the timely talk wrong. I hope you enjoy!

His knees twinged, dirty and scuffed under his ripped silk stockings. Muggy stone wet his bare, now filthy feet. His dark violet stockings were clinging to watered down and raw, tanned skin. His skin crawled under the layer of filth on his body. He felt lesser, scum. He was chained up like a rabid animal. The iron cuffs around his reddened wrists, bit down on his previously cleansed skin rubbed with perfumes and oils. The metal stung, like smoke at your nostrils. His creamy white tunic was now an ugly patchy shade of brown. He had been thrown around and rolled in dirt several times in the last few hours.

His heart fell to the bottom of his ribcage in that moment as a single thought came to mind. Would his beloved Brendon be able to save him? His mind swam. Did he care for his well being?

Shadows loomed over him, taunting his selfdom. With metallic ringing, the young, prince- new king- pushed his legs to his chest, his bound hands rattling as they rested on top of cracked, matted down silk. His eyes were foggy with hot, anger filled tears. His knuckles became a ghostly white as he choked back his sobs. 

Rusted iron creaked and heat licked at his face from in front of him. As he stared at the gritty, dirt ground, scuffed leather boots came into view. 

"Good morrow, my pretty master." a voice above him sneered with a faint chuckle. The owner of the voice spat at the king's feet. Salvia pooling in a circle and becoming muddied. The young king, still a child, dug his front teeth into his chapped and torn lips. He could taste the old, crusty blood flaking off his bottom lip. Tyler kept his head level with the dirt and stone below his being.

After several steady, drawn out seconds, the young beaten down boy looked up. The strangers face was shadowed in oranges and yellows from the torch in his bony hands. His build was wiry, veins and muscles raised up on his skin. This stranger was much paler than his counterpart. At least as far as the king could tell. Darkness still surrounded the two. Moonlight was filtered through a small barred up rectangle at the top of the cell. The stranger's shaven sides of light curls were painted yellow by the bright light of his thick, wooden torch. His eyes were dark, foreign. His simple tunic was pressed and free of wrinkles, his wide edged glittering, sword was attached to his hip. 

"I cry your mercy?" The king exclaimed, baffled by the insult. He rearranged his skeletal limbs. His muddied legs were now straight in front of him, muscles groaning. Is iron wrists sat behind his form. 

The stranger remained blank faced, but spoke proudly, "I was ordered to bring ye meal." His voice was smooth, rehearsed, trained even. Puffing out his chest, the boy- no younger than the crowned king himself- tossed a thin piece of moldy, stale, bread into the dust, bug ridden stone. He chuckled, deep from his stomach.

"You humor my situation?" King Tyler growled through, gritted teeth. Friction slurred and muffled his words from inside his mouth. 

"Your bloodline has not caused enough suffering?" The question fell of the stranger's pale, dusty rose lips like a shower of daggers. The stranger sucked in a gulp of musty air, his fingers folding into his palm as he did so. Tyler could feel the stranger's uneasyness and fear as he gripped his sword tightly. "That is your only meal until sunrise. Enjoy." The stranger turned on his heel with that announcement, pulling the rusting iron bars back into place. Pulling out a clanking set of keys, locking the cell door again. "Your lover shall be joining you soon." With that, he left.

Tyler was left alone, cold and suffering in the dark corners of his consciousness.

His stomach groaned and begged for nourishment. Planting himself on the unforgiving flooring on hands and shaky knees, he crawled to the piece of bead. Taking the hardened piece of wheat in his blotched hands, he turned it over in his palm. Small chunks of the object had crumbled off, left for rats. Tyler sighed, mumbling nonsense under his breath. Holding his lungs still, he stuffed the bread into his mouth. He chewed quickly, swallowing the foul excuse for food down choppily. He sputtered and gagged, his throat itching at whining. His mouth and tongue were dry, uncomfortable and sticky. To pass the time, he bit the inside of his lip and rolled his tongue.

Later, when the stone around him became freezing and slippery, Tyler peeled back his tried eyelids and felt living warmth to his side. Chains rattled and the warmth beside him shifted with the friction of thin woven fabric. Someone let out a soft, low yawn.

"Tyler?" A unmistakable, honey think voice cooed. Brendon. Brendon was caught by King Peter Wentz of the East. 

Tyler picked up his head, turning to see Brendon's shadowed and foggy face. Something wet and thickly fluid covered Brendon's nose and upper lip. He spat it too the ground. With a tightly chained hand, Tyler wiped away the liquid from his husband's face. It was thick, sticky and stunk of metal and rot. He gasped. Brendon's face was covered in a coat of crimson. The blood seeped into the cloth of his shirt, sticking the skin above his heart as he rapidly whipped off his fingers. 

"Thou dost taketh my breath away, even when filthy." Brendon cooed, eyes now bright marbles and a smirk tugging at his full lips. He rose in Tyler's color drained cheeks. They locked eyes. Tyler's pupils dilated at sight of a jagged gash in his bridegroom's forehead. 

"You-your wound..." Tyler choked out through a scratchy throat. 

"Tis only a small one. It shall heal." Tyler opened his mouth to argue, but Brendon gently placed a calloused finger to Tyler's lips. The touch webbed warmth over his body, reheating his flowering cheeks. Tyler pursed his lips and closely touched the skin in a kiss. "My king, my land. I shall heal." Brendon slowly pulled back his finger, resting the weighted limbs on his folded legs. 

"Haply." Replied the other lover, shrugging. 

"I tell ye truth." Brendon cupped his ghostly hands hands around Tyler's darkened face, taking in his rosy, heated, passion. Like magnets being pulled together, their foreheads touched. Then lips collided. 

Tyler's tongue traveled the rough terrain of his wed's lips. The muscle dipped up and down to the curves of the rim of skin. It was delicate and thought out the, action. Tyler felt Brendon open his mouth more, an animal like moan escaping the gap. Brendon's dull nails dug into the smaller's skin. The kiss turned sloppy. Tongues worked up and down in the opposite mouth, touching every inch of gum and teeth. The king later pulled out panting. Brendon removed his hands and gave the gift of a genuine smile.

Tyler inched away from the other, he now sat on his knees. Brendon raised an eyebrow. With nimble fingers, tanned fingers unbuttoned his shirt. Now moving back towards the wounded, Tyler lifted up the lower part of his shirt to Brendon's forehead. The fabric under his fingers was relatively clean, as Tyler wished to avoid infection. The thick bodily fluid spread across the white and fastened itself to tan and under curves of pink nails.

"Tyler..." Tyler shook his head at him. Brendon sighed.

Tyler applied heavy pressure on the deep gash until it ran dry and his fingertips and clothing were stained varying shades of red. His fingers were a cracking, vibrant cherry. The skin under his fingernails was filled with half dried, gummy blood. 

"I thank thee."

Tyler replied with a quick peck on the lips: then he positioned himself on Brendon's lap, thighs touching. An arm slipped under the bulky chain holding Tyler inside the cell. Brendon warmed his toned arm around Tyler's waist, pulling him to the place of his heartbeat. Tyler's ear rested just above Brendon's steady beating heart.

They fell asleep peacefully in each other's warm, breathing presence. 

At sunrise, the now familiar stranger arrived once again with the clatter of metal. 

"Up!" The stranger shouted with an authority like edge.

The tangle of limbs lifted their heads, letting of a panicked, breathy gasp. The stranger stepped to the locked iron pegs attached deep in the stone. Taking his set of keys in cleansed, filed hands, he wiggled the key into the old lock, Tyler's length of chain rattling to the stone. The echo sent a family of rats running. He did the same to Brendon's line of chain. Grabbing a length in each hand, he twirled the strong lengths around him palms several times. He tugged with a force that sent Tyler rolling to the ground, eyes burning with flying bits of dust. 

"Stand!" The one above the two captives roared, tugging on the bounds again. The two rulers stumbled to their bare feet. Pain shot out, webbing through Tyler's feet as small pebbles rubbed into the soft flesh.

They moved through a torch lit hallway, the armed boy leading, a tugging on the chains that still bound the two. Their shadows were light, new day's sunlight fading the shapes. Brendon still had himself putt together. Though, bloody, wounded, and caked into dry mud, he still puffed out his chest and held his head to the sun. Tyler stood walking on jelly like knees, his breathing shallow and unsatisfied. Climbing up a spiraling stone staircase, Tyler fell, tripping. His elbows exploded in icy pain. The joint was now painted in watercolor purples and blues. 

"Continue moving, rat!" The stranger tugged on only Tyler's line of chain. 

Tyler rose to to his feet, hands rubbing the sore, aching flesh of his elbows. Brendon gave a soft smile his way, mouthing words of passion. 

Tyler began to feel dizzy, ill, as they entered the well lit throne room. Through thick, dewy eyelashes he blinked away the blinding, yellow light. 

The large, extravagant room was carpeted in a rich red. Silver clad guards stood lined against stark white pillars. Bright purple curtains were hung on the far stony wall. They were thick and accented with golden thread. Two dark thrones constructed with fine wood stood elevated on more stone. Foggy jewels of varying hues were engraved into the wood, catching the candle light of the golden chandler. Two, greying men sat on the thrones, heads adorned with bejeweled crown, much like the one Tyler with stripped of only two sunrises ago. The darker haired man was the heir to the Wentz bloodline. He was draped in a rich animal fur cape. Large rings hugged each sun kissed fingers. The other, a light haired man, played with his thumbs and straighten the crown on his head. 

A sliver armed soldier took Brendon's line of chain and forcefully dragged him towards the two kings. The younger king was left in the vice grip of the stranger with a deadly weapon. Pushed to his knees, Brendon was seated in front of two lustful for blood kings. Wentz slowly stood up onto his feet. He steeped down each polished stone step with calculated footwork. When he reached the stone cold seventeen year old, he stalked around him, making a circle like a malnourished vulture. His narrowed eyes were tainted with darkness. 

The elder king turned back and met eyes to with the curly haired stranger, "Joshua, bring the boy closer." His voice was low, gravely with age. Following the echoing order, the stranger- Joshua- pulled Tyler closer to wear his lover sat. He was pulled off of the red carpet and to the side. Tyler and Joshua were now between to guard pillars, a clear as day view of Brendon's profile. 

Tyler's lip quivered as he stood face to with the decorated king. King Wentz ignored the shaking boy and made eye contact with Joshua again. The king extended a jeweled hand, palm up. 

"Joshua, ye sword."The king motioned with curling fingers. Joshua gripped the leather bound handle and pulled out the glittering weapon with a shiny clang.He handed it to Peter. The king took the handle and held it horizontally across his puffed out chest. his eyes turned down to Tyler, "May this teach ye about your blood." Tyler's brows 

The sun kissed man marched back to Brendon. That was when Tyler tried to force himself out of his confines. Wrists rubbed raw once more. Grunts passes through his lips as Joshua gripped his sore elbow. 

"Be still." He whispered, hot breath on Tylers neck. Tears threatened to fall, but Tyler would not give those evil men that form of joy. 

Turning the point of the sword to the stone floor, the king spoke lowly and loudly, "May God above have mercy on ye soul, Master Brendon."

"Stop, prithee!" Tyler begged, chains speaking his horror. Peter's hands shook as he rose the sword out arms length. He looked back to his second hand. The dusty blond only gave him a sad smile.

Steadying his hand, the tip of the toxic blade to the cloth covering Brendon's chest. He whimper, barely audible. Brendon's life filled eyes grew wide and the blade settled in his skin. With all the force he could muster, Peter plunged the weapon through Brendon. 

Silence. 

Brendon's eyes were drained, stuck wide. Crimson, so dark it was almost pitch black, liquid darkness, pooled over the base of the metal, coating the already dirty fabric. The slit through the boy's heart was filled with a black dipped point, no longer silver. Specks of Brendon's inside littered the king's face. He smeared his fingers over the wet spots, his rings tainted. With a nasty squish,t he blade was released from Brendon's greying body. His body fell backwards, wide, unmoving eyes facing the heavens. His skin was rapidly, greying, unearthly pale. The fabric coving his chest pealed up, revealing pink, rotting muscle. 

Tyler screamed, though it was more of a choked sob. He fell hard on his knees. Joshua was ordered to take Tyler back to his cell. Tyler could barely hear over his screams of mourning. 

Tyler was released of his chains and Joshua cradled him on his lap, slowly rocking back and forth on the cold stone of his cell. The rusting door lay open. Joshua cooed apologies over and of into Tyler's ears. 

Josh sucked in a breath, "My blood is from farther away. King Peter gave me a noble position instead of suffering like the rest of my blood. My lover, Dallon lost much like ye Brendon." Th story was poured out sweetly, dusted with sugar. 

Tyler sat up, sniffling, he cupped his hands over Josh's colorless cheeks, much like Brendon did. Tyler pressed his lips hard onto Joshua's, moaning into it. He could feel Josh harden under him. Joshua was first to pull back.

"I believe you need comfort?" He asked, purring into's the young king's eardrums. Tyler only hummed in agreement.

Hair was pulled. Tongues were merged and fought. Moans became careless and loud. 

Soon, Tyler was pulled back into the throne room, bound again by chains. He was forced to kneel in the same spot as his gone lover. Only a faint stain in the rich red carpet was left of Brendon.

Tyler let out soft cry as Joshua's sword blade touched his covered flesh.

"This is for my son the ye blood took from me!" King Pete cried. A thick layer blood now covered the aging king's face. The sword slid down and cut Tyler's pale stomach. Purple wound organs spilled out onto the carpet, dark red pooling around Peter's boots. Muscle was yellow and squished as it landed on the gore below the torn body.

Joshua held in a sob as Tyler's mangled body was carried away to be thrown and forgotten in a pit diseased bodies. An unforgiving mass grave.


End file.
